


La Corda di un'Arpa

by sonno a caccia (retronxnt)



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Corny, Eventual Romance, F/M, Light Angst, Past Relationship(s), Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 09:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21335935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retronxnt/pseuds/sonno%20a%20caccia
Summary: Alibi (Aria de Luca) is set to work on one of her first missions with Maestro (Adriano Martello), alone. Tension between the two's history rises as they try to remain focus on the task at hand, but the biting of the past lingers.Corny ship fic, some violence but not graphic.
Relationships: Aria "Alibi" de Luca/Adriano "Maestro" Martello
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Aria leaned against the docking bay wall with her arms tied around each other stiffly. She was just a few moments early for the mission Six assigned her, and awaited her expected squadmate. Six rarely ever detailed who she'd be going with, but Aria rarely ever cared, and would just adapt to whoever was thrown with her- even if it was one of the ornery Brits. Staring down the helicopter that would escort her, she patiently kept still with expectancy.  
What she did not expect, however, was to find Adriano Martello as her companion.  
  
"Martello..?" she allowed her surprise to squeak through her dryly sealed lips.  
His head turned to her voice and smiled warmly at her. "Ah, de Luca, what a pleasant surprise," he said as he adjusted his gear.  
"I would say the same, _signore_," she cleared up her voice, dry from not having spoken while preparing and waiting.  
He sniffed at the honorific and walked ahead towards the escort.  
"Are you coming?" he asked in jest, getting her to briskly move from her stark position, and drag her sling with her.  
This could be an interesting commission.  
  


**✛✛✛✛✛**

  
The Italian duo touched ground about a mile or so off from the designated location. Aria hopped off first and felt the dirt texture beneath her boots. Not long after Adriano followed, with a more ample sound, kicking up some of the dust. Not waiting for even a moment, they both started the short hike across the upcoming grassy fields. Although Aria often found herself far ahead of him, she decided it better to just follow at a short distance and let him lead.

  
After just a few minutes of traversing the highlands, Adriano already grew restless. He couldn't stand for not saying anything to her, and the crunch of the dead grass beneath their feet quickly became unbearable.  
  
"So, long time, no see, eh, Aria?" he asked casually, clearing his throat.  
"_In effetti, signore_," [Indeed, sir.] she responded, a bit coldly.  
"Ah, I'm not much for the formalities. You really don't have to call me 'sir' when it's just us two. Besides, I think after all this time, you're probably higher decorated than me anyway," he chuckled to relieve the rather elastic tension.  
"Really? They never gave you a gold?" she replied in her somewhat naturally facetious tone.  
"Nope. Maybe I would have gotten there if I didn't take to training some of the lower tiers. It doesn't bother me though, the medals are just for namesake- I know how well I served and that's what counts. I like training those kids, anyway."  
She reflected on his short oratory. She was at first inclined to disagree, being quite proud of her prowess at such a young age, but he was right, after all. She did at least feel as though he were higher than her, perhaps for having learned some under his teaching. Maybe his status within the Carabinieri molded her outlook on him.  
He sighed at her refrain.  
  
"Where in our fine country did you hail from, again? It's been quite some time, and my memory escapes me," he started up again, gregariously.  
"I was actually born in Libya. Tripoli. Immigrated when I was a child."  
"I see..."  
Something inside her wanted to keep an effort up to continue the conversation, even though she was usually the far more introverted of the two, "How about you?"  
"Oh, I was born in Rome. Beautiful city. But my heart called me to Modena, nothing beats their Military Academy. I would not be the same person I am today without them. I'm glad I made that choice."  
"Yes, it'd be difficult to see you as anyone but our Maestro."  
"And be equally as difficult to not have ever met you."  
  
She paused at his endearing comment, the metaphorical strings in her heart feeling as though they had been gently strummed like an ancient harp, one you wouldn't dare pull too harshly for fear of it collapsing on itself. And indeed the innermost corridors of her heart had become just as fragile. No one had ever dared to strum those strings, as if the harp dwelled within an ancient ruin of a precious temple. No one... except for him.  
After all this time, the only one capable of excavating through her many walls of dirt was he, and when he was out of her life it felt as though the whole site had been abandoned. Too dangerous for exploration- the air was damp with unbreathable dust and the walls made it far too ready to become a place of havoc. Everyone left it as it was. Yet, here he was, an explorer of Tuscania, braving the dangerous zone just to rescue that mystical harp. Why couldn't he just leave it alone?  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by his gruff voice. Lowly, he said, "I'm sorry, perhaps I'm opening old wounds..."  
Trying to find something appropriate to say, she had to take several seconds of time.  
"No. It's okay. I agree. I would not be quite right not having met you."  
  
This answer brought the two of them back to uncomfortable reticence. It wasn't anything wrong, but it really felt like it was. Going separate ways at different times, they never really got to speak to one another after. And after they had both been recruited to Rainbow, they still hardly spoke to one another outside missions, never had talks alone. Was it 'old wounds?' Or was it really a forgotten song, just waiting to escape it's singer's lips? Or the harp's great strings?  
Privately, she desperately wanted him back in her life. Not for any material or lustful reason, but for missing his beautifully positive attitude. His great smile and soft touches to her shoulders. She missed the days when they were both a bit younger, and she would be practicing her shooting, only to have him come from behind and whisper a joke in her ear. Upset at first, she'd cuss, missing the shot. But then they just paused and laughed. Laughed so boisterously, so genuinely. Who really cared for one strayed bullet?- it was just in good fun. Now, everything felt so sober. His joking was reserved to preparation time only, and it felt as though he shared the same jokes with any operator. No longer directed at or meant for her.  
Seriousness wasn't bad. She was always "sophisticated," or at least that is how she was often described. She preferred to remain strict on the field anyway. But even when the situation was less tense, he didn't throw her his cheery comments, or even slide a saying over in the language they shared. Oh, it had been years since she last heard him speak Italian gently to her. He used his words so artistically, even along with the often and common curse, or three. She never minded his cussing much, unlike much of their fellow revered operators, in fact it was a bold trait of his. She even liked it. His simple English rhetoric would never be the same.  
  
She forcibly hushed her mind. Thinking of him so tragically made her exhausted, and even ill.  
_Remember that he chose that path without you. Remember how "hurt" you were. Remember how foolish you were without those extra layers of protection around your whole person. Don't let you fail yourself again. Papà would want better for you._  
  
Although it appeared his companion had shut up into her own mind, he could still quite hear the growingly obnoxious crunch of the dry grass. Even with this given time of reflection, he couldn't bring himself to recall those old memories. Remembering her hurt face and upset tone that night would flood in a barrage of emotions and feelings he'd rather much forget. Every day that they had to work together now felt dreary and unbearable, like butterflies just dying to escape their cocoons. They never even tried to speak to one another on any previous mission. The tension surrounding the two was humiliating around other operators. They must have privately decided to just never talk again, but that didn't feel right. Didn't feel right at all.  
As soon as he saw her in the docking bay, he knew this task wouldn't be easy. Just the two of them, alone and facing dangers as usual. They just had to speak. So many years had gone by without a single story or joke coming from him. It was almost hostile.   
Why did it have to be so volatile? Sure, their relationship was always ever changing, but did it have to be so rough? It wasn't even arguing or fighting as all partners tend to do, it was just dead, bitter, mutual silent treatment. This needed to change, and it will change. If not now, then never.

By the time they had finished their inner quarrels, they were just in view of the estate. Maestro stopped for a moment, using his hand as a visor over his eyes. Alibi pulled up her bandana and checked her guns while they stopped. The sun was low and cast a warm, tangerine glow over the highlands. The grass continued to be sickly, even up to the estate itself. None of the plant life in the area had been cared for for some time, it seemed. Vines and bushes had overgrown their territories. Water probably didn't even run well in the aged pipes any longer. Something about it was remarkable, the architecture was still wonderful (despite being severely out of use), and the atmosphere was nearly nostalgic. How sad it was to see the antiquated villa overcome by terrorism and fear.  
Six had assigned them, based on their marksmanship and knowledge of the environment, to extract a valuable target within the estate-- Alibi had assumed it would be a hard drive of some sort containing precious information. She, Six, stated for them to anticipate light to medium resistance within the acreage and to not worry too much about keeping low. (Alibi had also wondered about that detail, not having ever known Adriano Martello to be a man of stealth.) They were to take their time, keeping careful watch for one another, and to simply extract the objective with as little possible damage done. Shouldn't be difficult with Alibi's precision and Maestro's sheer quantity.   
Six felt that the two of them would easily finish the job with quick efficiency, and wouldn't need any other backup. If only she knew what kind of estranged relationship had been festering within them. They had six hours before backup would be called in. Hopefully their mutual oppression wouldn't get in the way of that quota.

They arrived on the south side of the building and rapidly hurtled the outer fence. As quietly as possible, they made their way to the back entrance of the estate. No hostiles were yet discovered in the back area, but they still kept careful watch over their backs as they made their way down a practically antique cellar. It seemed the enemy did not expect an attack from beneath, as actually no hostiles were found in the basement, yet. Maestro took this as a sign of confidence, but Alibi worried about the echoing sounds of their steps. Even though stealth wasn't necessary for this mission, she always worried for keeping her low profile.  
They navigated to an ancient stairwell that would take them up to ground level. Maestro motioned for her to go first, for the sake of covertness more than chivalry. Each step creaked faintly with even the slightest momentum, and she knew that once he followed, that would become far more of a problem. Dispersing her weight, she carefully arrived near the top. Crouching gently to not overthrow this balance, she picked up her Storm from it's sling and used its sight to take a look around.  
The top of the stairwell was within a small closet-like room. It was quite dark, but the door had been cracked open slightly, for an unknown reason. Noticing this crack in the blackness, she was immediately alerted someone might be watching this entrance. Maestro hadn't yet began to follow her, realizing how easily the stairs would groan, and how ineffective any chance at offsetting his weight would be in comparison to her gracefulness. She huffed quietly beneath her kerchief, and looked back at him through the dark, hardly really seeing him.

With as much hush as she could muster, she attempted to tell him,  
_"Credo che qualcuno ci stia guardan-" [I think there's somebody watchi-] _  
But even that whisper drew attention.  
"What? Who's there?" a growly voice called out. Aria's eyes widened. Maestro gently hand-signalled for her to go on. They had to make their entrance sometime. Wasting little, she turned back towards the top and scanned through the low light with steady eyes. Suddenly, the watchman turned on the single light bulb above them, curious of what he heard. This startled her, yet she immediately found this guard and instantly locked on. With only a few bullets, he yelped only in surprise, and cluttered back into his chair with repose. Alibi motioned for Adriano to continue after her, as no other guard was in this closet. Yet she could certainly hear some commotion outside the room, and knew they'd find their position with celerity.

"Adept. How many do you gauge are immediately outside?" he asked her, still quite hushed.  
"I hear three voices. Many more feet. I don't know."  
"Well, Six said light resistance, let's have some confidence."

As he said that, the door knob was grabbed suddenly, both of their heads snapping to the entryway.


	2. Chapter 2

Not even hesitating, they both aimed down the crack and only waited for it to open wider. Hastily taking a lower position, Alibi crouched again to allow for her senior's predictable recoil. Doing this brought her back to how she usually held positions with close proximity to him. But, they were usually closer…

On a private count of three, a frightened terrorist opened the door and was immediately greeted by the duo's muzzles. He yelled with greater fright as they began their assault. Maestro relentlessly rained his fire into any target he could see, empty cases jettisoning from his great ALDA. Alibi took her time, scouting out further targets and efficiently taking out their heads. Although fire came in, it never hit their mark, as they were shielded by the structure of the room and by the darkness. Shortly, a good number of their resistance had fallen, and no more were within firing range.

Together they fell back roughly and swiftly reloaded. Aria stared at her companion as she clicked the cartridge into place. He always took careful time, yet still with haste, at least making sure everything fit together with perfection. She watched as his fine fingers grazed against a couple cases in the belt, and as it halted abruptly when the feed tray was snapped down over it. 

_ This is ridiculous, you can't be seriously forlorn over the way he feeds his gun. Sei pazza.  _

"Scan for me, do you see anyone on this floor still?" he softly asked her. She shook herself up and carefully surveyed the level. No doubt were hostiles taking up angles in preparation, but she couldn't see them from her position.

"No; be cautious anyway," she replied, unintentionally callously. She creeped out first, crouching low and trying not to step on the cluttered remains of the hostiles. Not yet met with fire, she beckoned her ally and huddled across the floor steadily, keeping to the wall to not be seen from above. She peered through every open door to ensure no one was hiding in them, but only found one door to be open. They both eventually arrived at a staircase that would take them upstairs, presumably where many more hostiles would be found. Maestro nodded to Alibi to allow her to continue up. After just a few steps, as her head barely peaked into view, she was immediately greeted with a storm of bullets. Ducking immediately, she sat back as Maestro caught up.

He gestured for a question. She gestured she couldn't tell. She peered over again cautiously. At least six were gathered at the end of the hall, but many more barrels poked out from every other room. The total had to be grand.

"'Light resistance' sure is a word for it. _ Informazioni di qualità, sembra! _ " [Quality intel, it seems!] she whispered sarcastically. He snorted at her commentary, bringing an unfamiliar feeling of dopamine to her brain. 

"Pick out the ones you can without getting hurt, I'll tear down the rest," he calmly instructed. She obeyed, leaning in carefully and sniping out the skulls she saw one by one. The enemy carelessly attempted to rain bullets on her position, but as they had to reload, she took her chance. The majority of those gathered at the end of the hall were through, but slowly others emerged from the other rooms and tried to destroy her. She fell back behind the stairwell walls and sighed, reloading. Maestro took this as initiative to take his turn. He melted any dolt who tried to leave their room of residence and allowed Aria to rest for a moment. Feeling satisfied for the moment, he crawled back down a few steps and reloaded after her.

She slipped into watching his careful practice again but noticed something else she hadn't quite taken note of before. Without wavering, she unexpectedly reached out and caressed his chin. Startled, he looked up at her.

"What happened?" she asked gravely, putting her thumb on the scar that crossed his lips, and removed her hand. He touched it himself, feeling the groove that inscribed his face, casually having forgotten it was even there.

"Oh. Just a gift from Iraq."

" _ Non mi dire _ ." [You don't say.]

"Just a well-placed IED-"

"IED-- explosive? Why didn't you tell me-- you could have died!" she allowed deep concern to escape from her mild facade. Her face wrote that emotion far more, but was covered under her goggles and necktie.

He huffed, then beckoned for her to follow, dragging her to a quiet room they had already covered. He sat on the floor with his LMG in his lap, drawing her attention to sit next to him. She conformed, and kneeled at his side. With a clear throat, reloading to keep his hands busy, he began to annotate.

"Yes.  _ Sì _ , I could have. But is that not what our job usually entails? We could die every day, every mission. This-" he explained with sighs and hesitancy, touching the scar again, "-was caused like any other injury. It happens.  _ Capisci _ ?" [Understand?] he asked with a habitual gesture. All she could do was give a slight nod.

"I don't mean to be apathetic, and I-- I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I just- I never… We never had the time to talk, have we? I'm concerned you never even said something about it before. I'm sorry that we never talk. I'm sorry I had to leave. I hope you've found it in yourself to forgive me, but that was my calling. My mind drew me to tour, to nomad. Yet my heart- it's always drawn me back to you." He squinted into her honey-colored eyes with distress written on his brow. She allowed those honey wells to stare back into his with equal disquietude.

"Adriano… if I'm being fair to myself, I'd say, no- no I didn't forgive you. I was so angry at you for far too long. I was foolish, grudges will never get me anywhere but deep foreboding, wishing for better times. I regret that severely."

The two paused, desperately thinking of the right things to say.

"If I may be so bold to be honest," Adriano started again, "hardly anything is tying me to Rainbow these days. I'm glad that they have use for my instruction, but I can't help but feel lost. They believe that the respectable S.A.S. are keeping me grounded, and they are fair men, but I don't feel at rest. What really is my position to the team? What am I best for that no other man can do? There are far more accurate, intelligent, and vigorous men. Yet, when I try to circulate these thoughts, I can only find one genuine solution. I miss you. 

Six, by all coincidence, chose us to represent our nation. She chose two star-crossed individuals by sheer chance. We're here today for a reason. And yet, I wasted such a clear portent and declined to greet you again. I considered leaving you, again, and that isn't right. The path is clear now, but only if you walk side by side with me on it. No following, no leaving; true equals. I understand how you tick, I understand your leniency to take up an equable counterpart. We don't have to be as public as we once were. But I miss just laughing with you from time to time, just our quiet joking and banter. It can be simple, I'd be okay with such. I love you."

Every word continued to sear into her mind. Yet, it didn't hurt, it felt like warm touches from his fingers on her chilled arm at night. Every word like a finger, softly holding her down and sinking her deeper into the moment. His address was eloquent, even if he wouldn't describe himself as such. She considered carefully every syllable as if it were the last time she'd hear from him again, and it would be, if she said no. But no wasn't the right answer at all. 

Even at her hesitation, she could feel a voice within her screaming greatly to answer his call. She felt deep, painful regret at her previous anger and distrust. She built those walls around her harp herself. The dirt cave wasn't natural at all, she desperately pushed back every rock that attempted to fall and made herself a dwelling within. No one could ever read her true emotions, and she liked it that way. She has always been a walking conundrum, unscathed by love and any hand that tried to take her. She didn't let herself love them. Only Adriano had the key that fit the specific keyhole that could open the door to her humanity. All he had to do was knock, and he did. All she had to do was let him in.

** _Let him in._ **

"I love you too," she creaked with melancholy she never had the chance to yet express. At the same moment, they found themselves reaching towards one another, and instantly accepting each other's warmth. It felt stupendous to just hug each other again. It felt like centuries since they'd last even held hands, and now it felt like centuries could have passed right then and there. The molecules of their heat first combatting with themselves in the air now felt as though they had finally reached a beautiful equilibrium.

It's okay. We're finally okay.

Even though it really hadn't been that long, they finally released, admitting internally they needed to get on with the objective. Aria quietly sniffed under her bandana as Adriano finished reloading, and they both stood up. No words were necessary to understand what they needed to do, but he glanced at her with a delicate smile. Although he couldn't quite tell, she returned it, her cheeks feeling sore from her always engraven sophisticated front.

They continued on cautiously up the stairs where they were previously stationed. Nothing had changed in those short moments they disappeared, the bodies formerly offed laid in their same positions. Maestro felt confident he had cleared the foreseen area, and started up to inspect the rooms. He remembered what he said hitherto, and waited for her to resume standing by his side. Together they peered in every room, searching for somewhere that could hold their target. Eventually they came upon a sort of office. Wordlessly, Maestro took a position by the door and nodded at her to let her know he would keep watch. 

Alibi dashed to the main desk and quickly shuffled through each drawer, inspecting each article attentively. Finally, she arrived upon a small drawer with a lock on it. Taking hardly any time, she handily picked it off and threw the drawer open. There, square in the center of the bottom board, sat a peculiar external hard drive, with a bit of tape over it describing in code numbers what it detailed. She snatched it up, and raised it so her partner could see.

"Obtained-" she began, when all of a sudden an alarm began to blare throughout the villa. She saw that pulling the hard drive tripped an automatic response.

" _ Cazzo! _ " they both cursed in unison. Alibi stuffed the drive into one of her safe pockets.

Maestro was already at the door. " _ Andiamo _ , let's go! With luck they've exhausted their backups," he began, only to have a bullet whiz by his neck. He leaned back into the room, taken aback. They looked at each other for a moment and prepared to handle it. Once again, they took their typical positions and undermined what hostiles they could see. Just as last time, light resistance wasn't a good synonym for the hostility they faced. 

Using all her rounds, Alibi fell back to reload again, but found she was out of mags.

"Shit, bingo," she yelled at him. He only glanced at her before continuing to take down all that dared tried to fight him. When the coast was clear, he fell back to her.

"You have your secondary?"

"Of course, low on ammo for it too, though."

"Use what you can, we will handle it. We'll get creative if we have to," he calmly instructed her, "I cleared a way to the exit. If we go now, we'll surely outrun them. Leave fire to me for now."

She nodded in response, finding great comfort in his initiative and kind commands. They took together and rushed down the stairs, jumping the railing at the end and swinging the doors open. Thinking they were clear to book it, they began to run, when suddenly four last terrorists dropped from above. They both paused, frozen in their spaces, somewhat expecting these enemies to want to take them alive (since only one carried a firearm). 

"_Vuoi portarli fuori?_" [You want to take them out?] she cautiously inquired.  
"_Certo._" [Sure.]

  
He was always so nonchalant about it. Alright. They fought with what they had.

Maestro immediately slammed the butt of his heavy ALDA into the neck of the one nearest to him, sending the terrorist stumbling down. He let the gun drop on it's sling, unaffected by its weight, and elegantly whipped out his sidearm to take out the other on his right. 

Alibi had nothing left but her fists, so she used them well. Dealing an impressive punch to her first victim, he flew back with the momentum. Forcing the other's gun into the air, he panicked and tried to control it, falling back with her impact. She punched him several times to ensure his incapacitation, each knuckle dealing another bruise or even broken bone.

Over in a matter of seconds, Maestro took no time in finishing off the four with a single shot, confirming they were surely out.

The two panted with such exertion, Alibi finding herself crumpled over a bit out of tire. Maestro shoved the pistol back in it's holster and walked a couple steps towards his mate.

"Are you alright?" he gingerly asked.  
"I think I broke some fingers," she answered.  
"Well, you might be needing those."  
"_Niente cazzate_." [No shit.]  
  
They both paused. Then laughed. Boisterously, and genuinely. 

No longer feeling rushed to race, Adriano slung his arm over her small shoulders, and they walked away from the estate with triumph. Feeling each other's warmth in one another's arms, they tranquilly trekked back to the pick-up zone. Not only had they succeeded in their task, but every burden they had carried all these years was finally lifted. 

Finally okay.


End file.
